


The Invite

by coplins



Series: Packrunners [39]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Drunk Sex, Family Dinners, Flirting, Fluff, Implied/Referenced Incest, Knotting, M/M, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Non-Traditional Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Omega Dick Roman, Pack, Pack Dynamics, Pack Family, Scents & Smells
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-23
Updated: 2018-11-23
Packaged: 2019-08-27 22:08:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,468
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16710931
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/coplins/pseuds/coplins
Summary: The day has finally come and all Dick's insecurities from the past come back to haunt him.





	The Invite

**Author's Note:**

> The incest tag is there based on our standards, not theirs. If you're still along for the ride this far, I doubt it's something that will be triggering to you but since it's implied sex between father/son rather than brothers I figured I'd give you a heads up. Oh, just to be clear, there's no mention of it and no actual sex; It's simply an easiness of touching each other's nekkid junk that implies the sex. :)
> 
> There were so many shenanigans going on in this event I had trouble choosing POV. In the end, I went with the only one for whom this is hard.
> 
> As always, Beta read by my awesome Beta [YouCantKeepMeDown](http://archiveofourown.org/users/YouCantKeepMeDown). (And Grammarly.) Any remaining mistakes are my own.

* * *

His heart beats wildly and he’s can’t breathe properly, sweat making his clothes stick to him even though he's freezing. His head is spinning. He presses his back against the door and glides down to sit. His scent is soured by fear. It was better when he was scentless, then he couldn't smell the few panic attacks he's had in his life. “I can’t do this. Oh dear, dear me, I can’t fucking do this!”

“Don’t be ridiculous, love. You can. I don’t hear you saying you don’t _want_ to do it,” Crowley says and crouches down in front of him. He puts his hand on Dick’s shoulder, a thumb rubbing back and forth. “We both know you want it more than anything, love. Now’s not the time to skip out.”

“But I _can’t_. I can’t fucking move, Crowl.”

Crowley refrains from rolling his eyes. Barely. Dick sees it anyway, knowing him too well to miss it. “Do you want me to call Dean to come pick you up?” Crowley asks.

“ _No_. That’d be worse,” Dick protests trying to remember how to breathe properly. He doesn’t want Dean to see him freak out like this. Not that he thinks Dean would judge him or mock him in any way. But he wants to make a good impression, not appear… useless.

Balt sticks his head in through the doorway by the living room. “Darling, if you don't want to go you can stay here with us. Whatever happens, we'll figure it out.” His smile is warm and cheery. "Just because Crowley has a crush on Dean doesn't mean Dean can solve everything,” he adds.

Crowley sputters. "I don't have a crush on that overgrown man-squirrel. He's a stand-up chap and he's Dick's Main, love. He exists to handle situations like this,” he protests.

Balt leans his back against the door post with a little smirk, one hand in the front pocket of his jeans the other holding a glass of champagne. “Don't be ridiculous, darling. Ever since you went out partying with him and hooked up with those girls you've decided he's the best thing since cigarettes,” he teases.

Crowley argues. "They were―"

“Triplets."  
“Triplets," Dick and Balt finish for him. Dick smiles briefly in spite of himself. Balt doesn't have a jealous bone in his body but he delights in teasing Crowley. Crowley had gone out with Dean to party one night to get to know him. They'd had drinks, sung karaoke, and hooked up with triplets. It was all Crowley talked about for the next week and Balt teases him relentlessly for it.

Crowley makes a dismissive motion. “It doesn't matter. What matters is that Dick's his own worst enemy. He's wanted this for as long as he's known those idiots and now he’s losing his marbles running the other way.”

Balt saunters into the hallway and crouches down beside Crowley in front of Dick, offering Dick his glass of champagne. “I’ll tell you what, darling. How about you jump into the shower and I’ll help wash the stink of fear off that gorgeous body of yours. Then you’ll put on some casual clothes you feel comfortable in and we’ll drive you there. If you still don’t want to go inside, we’ll turn back home. Either you can make a new attempt another day or you can stick with us and we’ll live happily ever after without them. It’s not the end of the world.”

Crowley gives Balt a dry glower but his scent holds no indication that he opposes the suggestion. In fact, since they officially broke up and Balt moved in, the things that had been bad in their relationship had faded into the camaraderie and friendship it started in. Dick spent about 50% of his nights here and 50% with the Winchesters. The Winchesters’ apartment lies too far away from work to be convenient or Dick might have moved in without second thought after having spent a couple of nights; Dean’s the one determined to find an apartment to fit what he deems Dick’s presumed standards. To Dean, the thought that Dick easily could get an apartment for the three of them doesn't even exist. He's all 'I got you into this mess, I'll make it worth it for you.' Of course, he’s holding off due to the pack merger. But should that fall through Dick will get them an apartment near HQ. Not that he's told Dean that. Saying it out loud feels like dooming the merger to fail.

Balt came from overseas and moved in right away. He has a lot of flaws - he drinks too much, parties too hard, occasionally does drugs, and gives off the impression he’d fuck anything and anyone. It isn’t true. He’ll politely knot anyone for which it would have health benefits, but he doesn’t sleep around. He’s as head-over-heels for Crowley now as he was 20 years ago. He appears to have a slacker attitude but he’s really a diligent, hard-working man. Through Sebastian, he’d gotten a job doing what he did back in London. He offers physical and emotional therapy to kits and Juvies struggling with deep depression and scentlessness. 

Both he and Crowley have been very supportive. The thought of not going now makes Dick even more panicked, though. “If I shower I'll be late."

“Fabulous people always are, darling,” Balt assures him.

* * *

Dick feels better after a shower. He feels better being led to the car holding Balt’s hand and with Crowley’s arm around his midriff. He keeps his calm while Crowley drives and he sits tucked in under Balt’s arm in the back. They tell him they’re going to wait outside in the car for 10 minutes before going home, in case he changes his mind.

He’s calm identifying himself to the guards in the lobby, calm in the elevator ride up. He rings the doorbell and takes a step back. He's fine. Everything is going to be absolutely fine.

Then the door opens.

They're all there smelling happy and excited. Mike's the one opening the door, the others stand further back, looking at him, smiling. Unlike at the date they’re dressed in clothes they’re comfortable in rather than more formal attire. Business casual for Mike and Raff―button down shirt on Mike, a cashmere sweater on Raff just like Dick’s wearing―college hoodie and jeans on Gabe, plaid on the Winchesters, three-piece suit on Marlon, and ripped jeans with a washed out black band tee on Luci. Mike and Luci are wearing pretty much the same they’d often worn in college. Sam stands with Raff and Gabe, seemingly swept up in a discussion while Dean’s talking to Luci, both nursing beers. Marlon standing furthest back.

“Dicky! We were starting to worry you wouldn’t show up. Come in,” Mike says with a big delighted smile, stepping aside to make room. 

Dick takes a step towards the door to the home filled with inviting smiles. His eyes snag on the threshold and get stuck. He freezes, bombarded with images that have no business going through his head right now. Memories playing rapid fire. The Europeans. Peter. Luci declaring he’d never bring someone scentless home. Mike flirting with him one second to get distracted by a sweet-smelling O walking past in the next. Aiden. Rejection, unwitting or purposeful. Old hurts aching.

He feels the same panicked dread rising that plagued him when he tried to leave home alone to come here. He keeps staring at the threshold, vaguely aware of Mike’s concerned ‘Dick?’ He smells the scents begin to shift from excited to anxious but he can’t fucking do it. Getting invited to a pack’s home is a big, fucking huge deal. Packs don’t hire cleaning staff even at Williams-level of richness because of it. That threshold might as well be a wall and he _can’t fucking climb it_. He’s about to have a major fucking panic attack in front of everyone that is important to him. Almost 20 fucking years of denying to himself that he’d daydreamed of an invite. Almost 20 years of not being good enough.

Suddenly, Marlon is there. His strong arm wrapping around Dick’s midriff, broad chest pressed close to his side and warm lips pressed against his temple without kissing it. His soothing all-is-well purr coils around the core of distress inside of Dick, smothering it as he ushers Dick inside. Dean’s there too then, rubbing his temple against Dick affectionately, purr synching with Marlon’s in perfect harmony. But Dean’s tense. Ready to turn on his mate at a moment’s notice for Dick’s sake if needed because Dick’s been told a Main’s bond to their pack is stronger than a mating bond and Marlon and Dean aren’t pack bonded. Someone puts a strong drink in Dick’s hand and he downs it. The irrational panic he’d felt is dying down, receding before it had a chance to blossom full force. 

This sure will give him something to talk about with his therapist next week.

“Welcome home,” Marlon mumbles against his forehead before pulling away enough to look him in the eyes. It would be a lie to say his heart didn’t stutter at the words. “We held off a tour of the property until you came. But dinner’s ready. If you don’t mind we can eat first and show you around afterwards. Not that I mind having to reheat the food, but―”

“Hah!” Gabe interrupts. “Don’t listen to him, Dicky, he minds.”

“When he cooks and we don’t eat it while it’s warm, he minds very much indeed,” Luci agrees with a smirk.

“Oh, shush, kits,” Marlon says to them with a little frown before looking back at Dick. “Are you hungry?”

Dick finds his smile. “Famished, dear,” he lies.

“Good. I’ll go prepare. Boys? You come with me,” Marlon says and looks to his sons, effectively leaving Dick with his own pack for a bit.

Sam comes to rub his temple against Dick and Dean wraps his arms around him, talking quietly only for Dick and Sam’s ears. “Hey. Are you alright, man? You want us to leave? Just say the word.”

“Oh, no, dear. I’m fine,” Dick assures before Sam has the chance to get distressed. The young man’s eyes are already concerned and he looks as ready as Dean to leave should Dick ask it of them. Dick definitely has a lot to talk about at his next therapy session, with how his heart clenches at the earnest and unquestionable support his new pack― _family_ ―shows him. It feels symbolic somehow, when his old family are still waiting downstairs a moment longer in case everything goes to shit, not letting go until they’re sure somebody grips firmly on the other side.

Thankfully, the panic doesn’t come back.

Dinner’s a relaxed affair and Dick finds his appetite again. Instead of having several courses served after one another, the table if heaped with food like it’s The Flight of Darion. That’s not a holiday Dick’s ever celebrated but he remembers reading to groups of Primals celebrating it back as a Juvie, always struck by the abundance of food served. Primals have a plethora of gods that they don’t make a big deal of but all the same influences their lives. It strikes Dick that he’s not certain about what gods Packrunners believe in and it becomes a topic over dinner. Dean waves it off with ‘None. All. Who cares,’ to begin with but it turns out that the Winchesters regularly celebrate and honour two gods, a hunter god and a fertility god, while the Williamses have a god of war as their prime deity. Even more interesting is that both packs have family crests. Dick’s seen the Williams crest before without knowing what it was. It’s hanging on a necklace around Marlon’s neck, the stylized head of a growling wolfcat ringed by three pairs of wings with the motto ‘The Gods’ Most Fearsome Weapons’ written under it in an ancient language. Sam has a photo of the Winchester crest in his wallet. It’s hanging on the wall above the door outside their family home in Kansas. It’s a hunting knife and an old type of gun crossing each other with a ribbon wrapped around as a frame. The text on the ribbon is in English; ‘’Saving people, Hunting things - the Family Business” it says. None of them knows the origin of their family crests and only Sam seems curious to find out.

The topics discussed over dinner are plenty and light hearted. Cars, food, clothes, musicals, peeves and funny anecdotes. Dick notes how often and uncaring they all are picking and eating stuff on other people’s plates, how someone will take the last out of a bowl only to put it on someone else’s plate unbidden just to get a chirp of delight. He’s not spared from this. Eager to try everything except the Brussel sprouts, anytime he tries something he doesn’t like it’s pilfered from his plate and replaced by something he likes instead. It’s college all over again but instead of just Mike and Luci trading foods with him and each other, the whole table does it.

Dick also notes the way Marlon looks at Dean when Dean isn’t looking. Dick had been surprised when he’d smelt the mating bond on Dean since Marlon has this way of keeping himself separated from the rest, but seeing the two of them together now, the way Marlon’s looking at Dean as if he’s a new kind of wonder… Marlon’s so smitten it’s painfully obvious. When he isn’t aware he’s being watched, that is.

Mike’s sitting beside Dick, refilling his glass as soon as it’s almost empty, conversing about their number one common interest which is theater. Before Dick knows it he’s agreed to go see several shows with Mike, conspiring over how to get the others to join them. He’s getting tipsy and when a hand discreetly lands on his thigh under the table while Mike side-eyes him almost shyly with a hint of nervousness in his scent Dick’s heart flutters. It’s idiotic, really. They’ve all declared their intentions and they know he’s interested in them. But they’ve got a long history throwing a big shadow, adding a sense of uncertainty of the outcome. Maybe they should sit down one on one and have a good long talk about the past like proper adults.

Dick doesn’t want to. This, Mike nervously making sneaky moves may be history repeating itself but it feels all new and exciting. The past is what had him petrified on the doorstep. It would feel like if they talked it out sensibly and acknowledged that the attraction had been mutual from the start, then this would be reduced to a businesslike affair, forever tied to past mistakes instead of a start of something new. It was different with Luci because they hadn’t really had something going on before since Luci hadn’t courted and flirted with him like Mike had.

Dick still has trouble accepting how differently people react to him now that he has a scent. There’s a bitterness in him that’s hard to let go of. He’s trying, though. The therapy sessions help. It had started very centered around the aftermath of gaining his scent, but after the date he’d made a self-deprecating joke to his therapist, ‘So I’m Packrunning trash these days,’ which she countered with ‘Why do you think it is you refer to Packrunners as trash when most of the people you love and care the deepest for are Packrunners?’ It had opened up a whole other can of worms, including sentiments like ‘failed to love you just like your parents failed you’. He doesn’t want to think about any of that now. Instead, he focuses on being in the here and now where his belly is full of butterflies and his heart is skipping as if Mike’s never looked at him that way before.

“So, Dean, Lucifer," Marlon says, “I hate to put a damper on the festive mood, but I would very much like an explanation of your misconduct today.”

"What misconduct?” Sam asks.

Dick smirks and picks up his phone. “Your brother has figured out that his power is arbitrary and has no qualms about taking advantage of that.” He searches out the video of Dean hanging on the wall while Luci fucked him and hands his phone to Sam.

“Do I really have to explain birds and bees to you, Papa?” Dean smirks smugly and leans back in his chair.

“This is serious, Dean. Rules are there for a reason,” Marlon argues sternly.

"Dean,” Sam says reproachfully when he sees the video.

Dean ignores Sam. “Yeah? Well it's a dumbass rule. And if those clowns hadn't shown up early it wouldn't even have interfered with our job. Besides, what you gonna do? Fire me? Suspend me? I ain't afraid of that anymore. I've got contacts these days. I can get a new job in a day.”

Gabe hangs over Sam's shoulder with a delighted leer watching the video. He says something to Sam but too quietly for Dick to hear.

“It's about responsibility, son. You need to be reprimanded for the transgression.” Marlon looks at Luci who's been still and quiet since Marlon brought up the topic. “You know what your punishment will be.”

"Yes, Father.”

"So you want to punish me? We'll figure something out. _Dad_ ,” Dean teases cockily.

A mix between frustration and amusement flickers over Marlon's face before his mask shutters down. “Very well. This discussion isn't over."

Dick gets his phone back and Mike leans in. “Can I see?"

Dick shows him the video, chuckling at his 'Ohshit’ when he sees it. Dick and Raff had been alone in Raff's office when they both received the video. It had caused some considerable amount of giggling at the cheekiness of bold as brass sending it to HQ. They decided not to do anything about it unless they got any formal complaints from eyewitnesses.

* * *

“So, you have three floors all to yourself,” Sam states with wide-eyed wonder as they’re being shown around.

“Four. Downstairs is the gym and dojo. Five, if you count the underground bunker,” Marlon answers.

“Bunker?” Dick asks then takes a sip of his mimosa.

“The reason we decided to buy this property. Underground, below the garage, there’s a bomb-shelter. It’s currently equipped to hold 50 people for a year if necessary. Should the worst come to pass everyone on the property including our security staff should seek shelter there. It’s not luxury accommodations but hopefully it will keep us safe from the bomb raids, should they come again. The security staff we have here have the choice to live in apartments on the lower floors. There are rules about guests they need to adhere to so most of those who took the offer are singles.” 

“But why do you need so many rooms?” Sam asks. On this floor only five aren’t in use.

“We don’t. But when we had this property renovated we kept our pack’s original size in mind. We did not buy with the intention to sell. It’s impossible to foresee how the pack will grow in the future. Hence the two other floors go mostly unused,” Marlon says and shuts the door to his study then opens the door next to it.

Sam looks like he wants to say something but the room on the other side turns out to be a library. He gasps then chirps in delight as he steps into the room with eyes bright with wonder.

“When you move in you can choose to take residence on any of the floors above if you like,” Mike says.

“ _If_ you choose to move in,” Marlon corrects. “Which is our sincere hope. But Michael’s right. You’re welcome to lay claim to any room not currently taken on whichever floor. Should a room that is taken catch your fancy we’re open to negotiating rearrangements. Today the elevator is locked only to go to this floor but that can be changed should you want it to.”

Sam manages to tear his attention away from the books he’s currently inspecting to ask “So you own the whole building?”

“Yes. We own several properties around the city. Industrial buildings, offices, apartment buildings. But this one and HQ are the only ones we make personal use of.”

When the Williams family acquired this building it was used as a regular apartment building that rented to rich people with a thirst for space with four apartments on each floor. The floors the Williams chose to live in have since been converted, walls knocked out or built, indoor stairs added. The old entrances have been changed to emergency exits and only one door is in daily use. On each floor there are four grand rooms that used to be living rooms, and every floor has a big, working kitchen. The kitchen is also where the Williamses eat their meals if they eat together. One of the grand rooms is now the library, another living room, the third is Luci and Mike’s combined study for when they work at home, the fourth completely empty and used to be the boys’ playroom when they were kits. Dick’s surprised to find that the Williamses bedrooms are spread out in different places in the apartment rather than clumped together. Sam is the one who mentally has already moved in and Dick can’t help but to snicker when Sam steps into the room next to Gabe’s to ask if he can have it and if it’s possible to get a desk to that corner and a bed over there and…

It isn’t until they climb the staircase to the second floor that Dick feels it. Two smaller rooms with cardboard boxes lining the walls, in connection to one of the grand rooms. Their steps echo hollow and dust motes dance in the air hit by the light from outside and he just… _feels it_. “I hope you don’t mind finding new places to store those boxes because if we move in with you I’ll claim these two rooms,” he states with a smirk.

“Consider it done,” Marlon says smoothly while Mike protests, “But they’re so small you can barely fit a decent bed in here.” It isn’t remotely true. Mike just has another standard of measurement of what a decent bed is.

* * *

The gym is something else. This is how you know you’re dealing with very rich people. Just like the other floors it’s converted from four apartments but here they’ve really built a gym. Dick’s paid money to go to gyms that are less well equipped. There are machines to exercise everything, several treadmills, giant mirrors along the walls. Sauna, showers, a big hot tub. The other side of the floor is the dojo. Part of it contains a boxing ring, there are mats to train martial arts on, sandbags, hand weapon mockups mounted on the wall to train without risking actual disembowelment. The motto on the family crest makes more sense now. Who else in their right mind would train with wooden swords? The knives and clubs he can understand. At the far end there’s a large construction out of woods with beams and levers and sandbags and chains mounted on a pole. It looks like some kind of medieval gauntlet.

Dean whoops in delight. “I know what that is! I’ve always wanted to try one of those. Here, hold my beer,” he exclaims and hands his beer to Gabe. Then he trots over to the strange contraption and hits one of the wooden beams protruding from the pole. It spins away and the beam on the other side comes spinning at Dean from the other side. Dean parries, hits something else, kicks out, ducks as the contraption comes to life with every part Dean interacts with. It’s quite an ingenious construction, allowing you to practise self-defense on your own. Dean takes a few hits that he’ll definitely feel tomorrow but it only seems to fuel him. He’s dropped fangs and growls threateningly while he hits and kicks.

Beside Dick, Marlon emits a sound between a growl and a purr and starts smelling of excitement and arousal. Dick throws an amused look at the Patriarch who’s flaring brightly and has dropped fangs. “You like them feisty, don’t you, dear?”

Marlon tears his gaze from Dean. “I like it when you show traits that will let you survive in circumstances that killed off most of my family.”

"I'm sure you mean that, dear, but,” Dick teeths his canines flirtily, flaring softly while smirking, looking at Marlon from under his lashes, “this," he reaches out to pat the semi Marlon is sporting, “has nothing to do with concern for survival, dear.”

Marlon chuckles. "You got me. How about you? Have you been keeping your survival skills up?”

Dick hums. "I'm more of a sneak up from behind kind of guy. If they never see me coming there's no need for, that,” he says and gestures vaguely in Dean's direction. “But I keep in shape. I'll make a confession. It peeved me that your sons never wanted to run for me back in college. No Alpha did. So I ran by myself just to prove that they couldn't catch me if they tried. I still do the Omega Run several times a week.” He eyes Marlon's crooked smirk and lack of surprise. “But you already knew that, didn't you, dear?”

Marlon hums noncommittally and steps in close to Dick's side. He puts his lips to the shell of Dick's ear and speaks in a low, intimate rumble. “Then perhaps you'll let me Run for you? And when I catch you, and I will, despite your agility and gymnastics, I'll catch you, and when I do I'll wrestle you to the ground, taking some nasty slashes from your claws no doubt, and dig my fangs into your neck to keep you still while I mount you on the spot like an animal, just like the gods intended us to. And there's only one way you could stop me.”

Dick's a weak, weak man. Far too easily riled up. A shiver runs down his spine, cheeks heating up and his traitorous scent giving away how enticing the proposition is. “Oh? How?"

“By saying no, of course," Marlon answers smoothly and straightens up. “I may be an animal but I'm not a monster. Although,” he adds smugly, "if my nose and eyes don't fool me, you aren't opposed to a little rough treatment.” He finishes by giving Dick's beginning of a semi a teasing little pat looking all too pleased with himself.

“Scoundrel," Dick chides and gives Marlon a playful duff with his hip. “So you've seen me do the Run, huh?"

“Sleep is a scarce commodity. I often go on morning runs. I wish I could say I happened upon you by chance but considering the likeliness that you soon will be part of my pack I'll spare you the lies.” Marlon smirks and looks at him with lowered eyelids over that pretty lilac flare. His eyes rake over Dick with both confidence and lust. Last time Marlon had looked at him like that was on a business trip to Hawaii back when Dick was still Aiden's assistant. After being stuck in boring meetings all day Marlon had coaxed him out to dinner then drinks then dancing. He'd come on strong, courting exactly like Dick likes to be courted. Then, just like now, that look made his knees weak and his pulse jump. But then he'd excused himself to go back to his hotel room to scream into the pillow from frustration. Now there's no need to hold back. Marlon still scares him a bit but it had helped to find out why he's acted as he did.

Suddenly there's a ripping sound followed by a long hissing. Sam lets out a consternated “Dean!" and Dean curses.

Dick and Marlon turn their attention towards Dean just to see him hide clawed hands behind his back with a sheepish smile while all the sand pours hissingly out of a punching bag beside him. “Sorry! I didn't m―” he begins to excuse himself not paying attention to the moving contraption behind him, consecutively getting hit by a ball at the end of a chain that comes spinning. He goes down with an 'Ouff’.

“Quite a survivor," Dick remarks with a small smirk.

Marlon just chuckles in amusement. They both take a sip of their drinks with small smirks while Luci and Gabe cackle, Raff and Mike are torn between mirth and worry, and Sam runs towards Dean to check if he's alright. When Dean sits up Sam gives him one of his astounding bitch faces and scolds him for destroying the punching bag.

 

He's comfortably drunk sitting on the couch in the living room. He's not sure where the others went while he and Mike were caught up talking about nothing with low voices. Now they're just looking at each other, smiling. Mike’s arm behind him on the backrest brushes his neck and makes his pulse erratic. There’s music playing still from when he and Marlon danced and somewhere in a room nearby Dean and Gabe are laughing while Luci howls indignantly. Last he saw of Raff and Sam was Raff backing Sam out of the room while Sam was smiling saucily at him. The whole home feels warm and safe, suffused in the intoxicating scents of the individuals living here, with an ever playing hum of Dean and Marlon’s content breastbone purrs as a backdrop in the distance. They’re not even in the same room as each other and still their purrs sync. Mike’s thumb rubs slowly back and forth on his shoulder carefully like he’s afraid that a bold move will ruin the moment. 

Not a chance of that. Dick’s lost in the clear luminosity of Mike’s blue eyes lighting up the semi-dark room, entranced by how the red light from his own flare paints Mike’s face, accentuates that picture perfect smile and those sharply teethed canines. Mike clips the flare off and on with one eye, doing an inverse of his trademark primal wink.

Dick smiles wider and has to avert his eyes as his cheeks heat up and his belly flutters. He can’t look away for long, drawn back to drown in that blue gaze like a ship setting sail for the lighthouse in the middle of the reef to crash at jagged shores. The air seems to vibrate between them. His chest feels too tight and too expanded at the same time. Mike smells of alcohol, excited happiness and nerves. He’s not the only one. Dick’s palms are sweaty and he keeps tapping his feet in beat with the music in a nervous-exhilarated tick, twirling his drink slowly round and round in his hands.

Mike turns his head towards to loudspeaker for a beat, eyebrows lifting in recognition before looking back at Dick. “Do you hear that? It’s our song,” he says, voice slightly slurred.

“Our song? I didn’t know we had one,” Dick counters, speech as unsteady as Mike’s.

“You don’t remember? From back in college.”

Dick’s smile pulls up in a corner as he shakes his head in bemusement.

Mike’s eye-whites are pink and his eyelids heavy from the alcohol. It almost peeves Dick that he finds Mike the most attractive like this, all soft and languid, ruddy and heavy from intoxication. He wonders if it’s a byproduct of their past, and how Mike used to pay him the most attention when he was drunk - not as easily attracted by the scent of other Omegas. Mike’s smile turns vexed and he gestures with his glass when he talks. “You _have_ to remember. You came down to the House, strode in as if y’ owned the place and took to the dance floor. I used to consider m’self a good dancer but you…” He takes a sip from the glass to discover it’s empty and puts it away on a side table. “I couldn’t compete with that. But, then, we danced. And this song… it played. When we first, y’ know.” He moves his finger in a circular motion with eyes begging Dick to know what he’s talking about.

Dick looks at the loudspeaker and listens.

“ _~...I don't wanna get caught, up in the rhythm of it. But I can't help myself, no, I can't help myself, no, no. Caught up in the middle of it. No, I can't help myself, no I can't help myself, no, no, no. Caught up in the rhythm of it…~_ ”

He remembers. He remembers Mike slinking up behind him offering him a red solo cup, bass thumping vibrating in every nerve, music so loud they had to shout to be heard, Mike’s scent curling around him, closely pressed to his back with a hand on his hip. Mike had yelled to him that he wasn’t as good of a dancer as Dick so if anyone challenged him for Dick he’d knock them out the old-fashioned way. Dick remembers his own answer, remembers dancing, grinding, falling into the deep end. And he remembers this song playing eons later when Mike’s nose travelled along his cheek towards his mouth, the jolt of surprise when Mike’s lips found his, setting off a firestorm, dancing forgotten kissing like Progs until lust had grown to the point of urgency for more.

Dick turns his head back towards Mike and answers what he’d said all those years ago, this time slyly, with a low voice, “Don’t worry. I’ll keep it simple for you, Mr. Sloane.”

Mike bends his head towards his chest closing his eyes with a grin, nodding, towards himself or Dick is unclear. “That’s it. Our song. That night might be fuzzy but I could never forget _that_.”

_Our first kiss._

Dick won’t ever forget about that either even if his memory needed a jog to remember what song was playing.

Mike looks back at him biting his lip over a smile, the nervousness in his scent grows stronger. He turns his upper body towards Dick, wetting his lips, then leans in slowly, halting, looking from Dick’s gaze to lips and back. When Dick licks his own lips Mike leans the rest of the way.

Dick’s heart is rabbiting in his chest, belly swooping. Their lips slot together slightly parted in a soft press. His eyes fall shut as they hold still for a moment that draws out forever. Mike opens his mouth a little more, tongue almost shyly tasting the seam of Dick’s lips until Dick opens up to him. A hand cups his cheek, slides to his neck thumb caressing his cheekbone and fingers scraping his neck lightly. The drink is plucked from his unresisting hands. Every part of him is fizzling thrilling swooping. The kiss is slow, savouring, deep.

Mike doesn't kiss like his brother. Luci kisses deep, sloppy, devouring. Mike kisses like kissing is the main attraction of the show. Mike savours. A slow melding compared to Luci’s fervent claiming.

The world around them turns into a concept as hard to grasp as a fleeting dream after wakeup and Dick is lightheaded, jubilant, vibrating for more.

Hands start to wander as the heat is turned up, kisses getting hungrier. Soon the fabric between them is a barrier that can’t be tolerated. Dick works on Mike’s buttons with fumbling fingers, arousal saturating their scents. Mike gets his hands under his shirts and pulls up, momentarily getting stuck because he can’t pull them over Dick’s head without letting his mouth leave Dick’s. They both make urgent sounds, small gasps and whines. As soon as Dick’s shirt is off him he pushes Mike’s button-down off his shoulders and they’re finally skin-to-skin. Mike lays him down hands wandering wherever he can reach, rutting against him. Hard length rubbing against Dick’s own hardness feeling scorching hot even through the affront that is their pants. It takes a lot of fumbling to open buttons and zippers when even an inch apart is too far but Dick has a giggle fit when Mike kicks to get his pants off. “You better stand up to pull those off, dear, or you’re going to end up kneeing me in the groin and this will be much less pleasurable.”

Mike laughs and rolls off him to abide. He sheds his pants and socks and removes Dick’s pants and socks while he’s at it. Then he lies back down on top of Dick, mouth attaching to Dick’s before he’s even fully in place. He slots between Dick’s legs like he belongs there. They rut together. Dick’s legs and arms wrap around him, kissing, kissing, kissing. Thrills and pleasure course through nerve endings and bloodstream. Mike slips in by mistake, gasping out, “Oh, fuck, you’re so wet.”

Dick keens a purr and rolls his hips, encouraging Mike to stay on the track he slipped onto. Mike adheres fucking into him slowly at first but soon enough with pressing need, fast and hard, Dick’s erection rubbing against his belly with every thrust, bringing Dick closer and closer.

Suddenly, Mike pulls out, grabbing onto him almost painfully possessively, turning his head to growl death with fangs dropped on full display. Above them, a lilac flare gives the reason why. Marlon has grabbed Mike around the waist forcefully holding him up, pulling him out. Marlon roars a brief warning that makes Mike cower against Dick licking his lips but still with upper lip pulled up to display his fangs scowling, side-eyeing his father.

“Pardon me, boys, I won’t disturb you for long. Mike, hold still,” Marlon says with amusement lacing his voice and lets go of Mike. Dick hears a condom wrapper as Marlon retreats behind Mike, then Dick feels Marlon’s hands brush his stomach as he puts the condom on Mike. Once it’s on Marlon’s hand guides Mike’s dick back into Dick in an unspoken permission to go on.

Dick can’t help himself the giggle that bubbles up from the depths inside of him. He can smell his own joy like sparkling dust motes dancing in the air. He’s never heard Mike growl so dangerously fierce, with such a serious threat behind it. Marlon’s short roar and responding expression of threat brought chills but Dick couldn’t say if those were chills of fear or arousal. That he’d done it just to put on a condom only to retreat afterwards is hilarious. 

Mike doesn’t care about Dick’s giggles. He’s locked into singlemindedness now and it doesn’t take long before Dick too is back in the state they were before the interruption. He throws his head back and keens when he comes, claws digging into Mike’s back without thought. Mike doesn’t even flinch despite the tang of blood in the air. He leans his head against Dick’s shoulders and thrusts with full focus panting wetly until his knot begins to swell. The orgasm makes Mike twitch and jerk until he finally relaxes, panting wetly against Dick’s shoulder. Dick closes his eyes and enjoys the scent of sex and joy and sweat and alcohol in the air.

When he wakes up he’s being carried. It’s the reek of happiness that hits him first. He opens his eyes to see Mike’s soft smile. It grows bigger when Mike puts him down on a bed and discovers he’s awake. “Hey…” he says.

“Hey…” Dick answers with the same tender tone then shivers at the coldness of the sheets. Mike quickly climbs down beside him and pulls the blanket over them, fitting snugly beside Dick, warm and wonderful.

Mike rubs his nose against the shell of Dick’s ear. “I love you…” he says, as simple as if it’s the natural state of matters.

Dick almost says ‘You should have figured that out back in college’ but stops himself. There’s no use dwelling on the past. “Why, Mr. Sloan…” he purrs instead.

Mike chuckles and closes his eyes with a smile. Dick lies watching him. The smile on Mike’s face remains long after his breath becomes deep and sleeps steals over him. Dick remains watching until he can’t keep his eyes open any longer.

* * *

Breakfast is when it really hits home how much Dick hates to be alone. Sam and Raff sit with their heads together discussing something on a paper between them, Dean sits in Luci’s lap―knotted, by the scent of it―beside Gabe and their frequent laughter brightens the day even if Dick for the most part isn’t listening to what they’re saying. Dick’s eating silently, placed between Mike and the short end of the table where Marlon’s sitting. Everyone smells happy even if Mike, Luci, and Sam have an underlying scent of pain that no doubt comes from their nightly escapades. Dick had apologised to Mike for clawing him during ecstasy but Mike only smiled and professed to be happy about it. There's a hum of content purrs laying backdrop to the conversations.

It's a similar feeling to the one in the European pack. But something's missing, something Dick hadn't been aware of back when he lived with the Europeans. They'd had a sense of perpetual sadness and desperation that isn't present here. It would have been impossible for Dick to sense it since he shared it at the time.

“If you didn't use condoms this morning I hope you were sober enough for it to be an informed decision,” Marlon remarks stirring sugar into his coffee.

Marlon is a different Patriarch than Henry was. Henry would never have interrupted an intercourse to put on a condom on someone. But then again, it's possible that he hoped Dick would get pregnant.

“ _Father_ ," Mike whines like a pouty Juvie.

Dick chuckles and pats Mike's thigh, looking at Marlon. “Mike was a good boy and put one on. And thank you for the consideration yesterday, because I had none.”

"That much was obvious."

“How did you even see that I wasn't wearing one? I was _inside_ of Dick for fuck sake,” Mike complains.

"Son, I was sitting in my arm chair the whole time after I finished dancing with Richard," Marlon says with an amused smirk.

Mike's eyebrows rise in surprise. “Really? I wasn't―”

"Aware?" Marlon interrupts with a chuckle. “That much was obvious. You didn't even notice when Luci came in hoisting Gabe to dump him in the middle of the floor, nor the ruckus when Gabe chased after him before Luci could lock him out of the bedroom and lay claim to Dean for himself.”

Dean hears his name mentioned and pipes in. "Luci kept me up all night with his loud snores.”

Luci sputters indignantly. “Lies! You're a lying liar who lies!"

“Oh yeah? How do you know?" Dean challenges with a smirk.

“Because I was awake watching you sleep like the creep I am!"

Dean laughs. "You got me. Just pulling your leg."

Dick finds himself grinning, warm on the inside. At least he’s not the only one who’s spent the night watching someone sleep.

“Was it worth the loss of sleep?” Mike sniggers.

Luci grins and wraps his arms around Dean. "He purrs in his sleep and he held onto Gabe's tail like he was afraid he'd disappear.”

"He held so firmly I couldn't get out of bed to go to the bathroom,” Gabe says with a wide grin. 

They all laugh and Luci goes on to explain in bewilderment all the things Dean can and will do with a tail.

A hand comes sneaking to caress the inseam of Dick's thigh wandering up to graze his crotch lightly, but it isn't Mike's hand. Marlon leans in to whisper in his ear. “Run, little O, _run_." Dick shivers pleasantly breath hitching. His inner eye shows him the scenario Marlon painted him yesterday, Marlon running for him, catching him and wrestling him to the ground, knotting him ferally. Dick's traitorous scent gives away how much it turns him on.

Marlon retracts his hand and grabs his coffee wearing an expression as if nothing just transpired between them.

Lucifer sniffs the air and leers at Dick. “Looks like Dicky got inspired by the conversation.”

Mike puts an arm around him smirking. "I can help you with that.”

Dick throws a discontent side-eye at Marlon. "Scoundrel.”

Marlon looks at him in what to the world looks like genuine surprise, as if he has no idea what prompted the accusation. He must have been very aware the others wouldn't notice what he did. His sons have always claimed that he is as much of a little shit as the rest of them. Dick's prone to believe them now.

* * *

**Author's Note:**

> As for the incest, I'd like to dust off your memories. In this world Alpha and Omega are the primary genders, your sex is not as important. As stated in the very beginning of this series, Omegas leave home when they become adults to prevent inbreeding since sex is a social device as well as a way to cement bond amongst adults. Alphas stay with their birth pack and sooner or later the Patriarch will feel a compulsion to knot them to properly bond them into the pack as adults. This will happen now and then to strengthen the bond. If the current Main didn't help raise the Alphas as kits they too might feel the compulsion to properly bond the Alpha. Alphas generally have an internal block against sex with Omegas that helped raise them. Omegas that present will have a scent for a couple of months that is repulsive to related Alphas. It will fade after a while and when it does normal attraction ensues. That means the heart is a major factor and as such, Omegas might feel a much greater attraction to the Alphas they grew up with since love is already there.
> 
> In practicality, it means that had Sam presented as an Alpha he might never have felt any sexual urges towards Dean since Dean was the Omega that raised him. If the Winchesters go home to visit John, chances are both will experience the attraction that Dean's been struggling with since he stayed past the repulsion-period, only it'll be worse for Dean since he struggled with it before he got new mates. It'll be less for Sam since not only did he never develop that attraction before he left, he's got four new mates plus a new pack bond.
> 
> It's not foolproof, of course. Amara deciding she wanted to mate Chuck as a kit and sticking to that through life is a 'hiccup' in the system. Just like Chuck never developing that kind of feelings for her is a 'hiccup' even if he did have bonding sex with her.
> 
> In conclusion, Marlon having bonding sex with his Alpha sons is perfectly normal and expected, while Dean wanting to mate John and have his (inbred) kits, isn't.  
> Should Marlon have sex with his sons just to get off that would be perfectly normal and acceptable too. But Marlon doesn't and that's more of a thing based on his personality and personal beliefs.


End file.
